CSI: Trifles
by A Rhea King
Summary: Grissom, Greg, and Nick work to prove a gorilla isn't a murderer. Meanwhile, Catherine and Sara track down the person who killed a catatonic woman's husband.
1. Chapter 1

**CSI: Trifles [1]**  
by A. Rhea King

(Author's Note: This is actually the first CSI story I wrote, many years ago, but as a TV script. I finally got around to writing it as a short story. Enjoy!)

_Chapter 1_

Grissom stopped the SUV outside The Mirage. He, Greg, and Nick climbed out with field kits in hand. An officer met them at the door and led them through the crowded halls. They passed a large aquarium with several sharks and other salt-water fish. Having seen it dozens of times, the three didn't even glance at the aquarium. They came to the lion cage, added two years ago, and another familiar sight to the CSI. The crowd began to thicken as they came up to the recently added gorilla exhibit. The officer barked for people to move and the crowd parted. He came to a door marked EMPLOYEES' ONLY where Brass waited. He opened the door for the three and the group went into the hall beyond.

Brass waited for the door to close and silence the crowd outside before he began speaking. "So the witnesses were coming in late after their sudden marriage—"

Nick jabbed, "Did you tell them the odds of it lasting through the weekend were slim?"

"Not my jurisdiction."

The four chuckled at the joke.

"Anyway, they saw our suspect in the gorilla exhibit, holding body parts."

He stopped talking, waiting for what he just said to sink in.

"What part of the body was the suspect holding?" Grissom asked.

"All of it."

"The suspect held an entire dismembered corpse?" Grissom asked. His tone said he didn't believe Brass.

"Yes. The whole thing – arms, legs, head, torso – all of it."

"How?" Nick asked. "Are they a body lifter or something?"

The group came up on the first door into a gorilla cage. The CSI glanced into the cage at the gorilla staring back at them. She angrily snorted at them.

"Even then…" Grissom trailed off, trying to imagine the type of person who could hold an entire body in parts.

"Was the victim a midget?" Greg asked.

Grissom shot him a disproving look but Greg didn't take it back.

"We were told you had the suspect in custody. Can we talk to him or her?" Grissom asked.

Brass smiled, one that the three knew. He knew something they didn't and they weren't going to like. He continued walking.

"Well, talking to Ralph might be a problem," Brass told them.

"What language does he speak?" Nick asked. "Or isn't he speaking?"

"Oh, he can speak. Fluently I'm told. However…"

Brass stopped a door labeled: VETERNARIAN. He flashed another smile at the three men and pushed the door open.

Lying on a large exam table was a heavily sedated silver back gorilla.

"We weren't able to find an interpreter who spoke gorilla," Brass finished.

This twist surprises even Grissom.

The barren, dry, hot landscape stretched for miles. On the distance the air shimmered, an illusion of water that had led many thirsty man to his death. In the midday sun, there were few sounds – an occasional bird, a few bugs, but mostly silence until hot, dry breezes rustled the dry plants.

* * *

On County Road 92, a State Patrol car came to a stop in this desolate location. State Patrolmen Boyer and Lance climbed out. Boyer grabbed a pair of binoculars and began scanning the horizon with them. Lance shielded his eyes, also searching the horizon. At the same time, the men spot a woman. She walked slowly, as if she were taking a stroll before lunch. Except there wasn't a house for miles.

Boyer lowered the binoculars. "Caller was right. There's a woman wandering around out there. Let's go see why."

He tossed the binoculars in the car. Both grab their hats and head out into the desert to talk to the woman.

As they get closer, the men can she wore a faded ankle length, short-sleeved dress. She was so thin that her hipbones almost showed through the dress. Her long brown hair looped into a long, sloppy braid that danced as she walked or when a breeze blew across her back, but the hair was as unhealthy as she was. It had no body or shine. Her arms and face were badly sunburned. A large cut, bruised around the edge, started at her temple and disappeared into her hair, forming a matted red glob. She was barefoot and her feet were sunburned, cracked, and bleeding. She watched the ground, humming a tune over and over, as she aimlessly followed a line on the ground only she could see.

Lance caught up and walked alongside her. "Ma'am," he said. "Are you okay?"

She kept walking without answering.

Boyer caught up behind her. He told her, "Ma'am, a man called in to report you out here. He said he almost hit you when you crossed the road in front of him. Do you need help? Would you like us to give you a ride somewhere?"

She didn't answer or stop.

Boyer reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am, please stop walking. We want to he—"

The woman went from humming her tune to a screaming demon that attacked him in a fury of rage. She clawed, bit, and kicked. The surprised man lost his footing and fell back with her on top of him.

Lance grabbed her by the waist, trying to pull her off. The woman turned her attack on him. Both officers fought to subdue the surprising strong woman, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand.

The only thing that noticed the fight was a hawk perched on a cactus nearby.

* * *

With camera in hand, Nick searched the habitat for evidence. He snapped some photos of blood spots before moving to the cage door that released Ralph into the habitat. The door was still down and he noticed that on the ground in front of it, there were fresh dig marks. He crouched, laying his hand in them. He could now see the indentation of claws. It made him wonder…

"Find something?" he heard Greg ask.

Nick looked up. Greg was inside Ralph's cage in a full body painter's suit. Blood coated the inside of the cage, making it impossible to figure out where the first blow happened. Greg moved methodically across the cage as if he'd created a grid in his mind.

"Yeah. There's fresh dig marks outside here. Like something or someone was trying to get into the cage."

Nick looked up, seeing blood and hair on the bent bars. Looking down the wall, he didn't see any bars bend on any other cage door.

"Got some blood and hair here too."

"The victim's, probably."

Nick reached in his kit and pulled out tweezers. He put the hair in an envelope, and then pulled a pre-moistened swab to collect blood. He snapped the cap on it and boxed it.

"At least you have different evidence. I have a cage full of blood. If that's not a conviction, I don't know what is."

"Better not let Grissom hear you say that. I think he feels sorry for the gorilla."

Greg chuckled at the comment. Nick smiled a little, but he didn't find it as funny. He felt sorry for the beast too, and his money was that someone had made a horrible assumption the gorilla was tame. That person went into its cage and discovered it was still as wild as the day it was born. In Nick's opinion that didn't make it the gorilla's fault, but he was sure some judge somewhere wouldn't see the same way.

Nick got up and started searching the habitat for more evidence. He glanced up when the other gorillas came to their cage doors. He smiled at them.

"We'll get you out of there soon," Nick assured them. "Just hold on for a little bit longer, guys."

One of the gorilla's showed his teeth at Nick. Another made throat noises and rattled the cage door hard. Nick looked away – if it weren't for those doors, he was sure he'd be torn limb from limb too. Nick reached the window that looked out at The Mirage hall.

He moved closer, spotting a security camera pointed toward at the habitat. Maybe the cameras could clear up what had happened in here tonight.

* * *

Sara and Catherine walked down the hall, watching Officer's Boyer and Lance. The two sat in chairs outside of a room and both look worse for wear. They are scratched, bruised, and bandaged. The women stop in front of them and the two men rose to their feet.

"Bad day?" Sara asked.

"We've had better," Boyer said with a slight smile.

"What happened to you? A bar fight?"

"She happened." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the room.

The two glance through the door at the woman in the bed. A female nurse was with the woman, changing bandages on her sunburned skin.

"Dispatch said you requested female CSI?" Catherine asked. "Is this a sexual assault?"

Lance shrugged. "Can't say for sure. We found her out in the desert just walking. When Boyer put his hand on her shoulder, to stop her, she went ape-shit."

That rose both women's eyebrows.

"Yeah. I really said that," Lance said.

"And if he said it, you know it's bad," Boyer added.

"I do," Catherine admitted. She'd known Lance for years and he reserved curse words for situations where it was very appropriate. "She did all this?" Catherine pointed at their injuries.

"All of it," Lance said as Boyer answered, "Yeah."

"Okay. We'll see if we can find out what made her snap like that. Do you know her name? Did she have any I.D.?"

Both shook their head.

"Thanks guys."

Sara and Catherine entered the room. Sara caught the nurse as she left.

Quietly she asked, "Did she consent to an assault kit?"

"I asked her but she didn't answer yes or no. I did one anyway and she didn't flip out like she did on the officers. She is completely catatonic right now, except…"

"Except what?"

"Well, she keeps humming a song. The same song over and over."

"Do you know what it is?"

The nurse shook her head. "I don't recognize it, but it just seems out of place. Kind of like hearing death metal at church."

Sara smiled at the comparison. "Thanks."

Sara joined Catherine at the bedside. Catherine pulled the blanket and sheets back to look the woman over.

Her legs have bruises from ankle to thigh, many of them narrow and deep. Around her throat, a bruise was a sickly green color of healing. On one of her hands, she had a scar from a severe burn that likely never saw medical treatment. Her deep blue eyes focused on an infinite spot on the ceiling without blinking. It was clear that woman's mind had parted with her, leaving her a human shell alive only on impulses.

"Ma'am," Sara asked, "can I scrape under your fingernails?"

She didn't answer. Sara looked to Catherine, who gave a slight nod. Sara setup to scrape under the woman's fingernails.

Catherin talked to the woman as she snapped photographs of her injuries. "My name is Catherine Willows. This is my partner Sara Sidle. We're from the Las Vegas crime lab. We're here to help you and figure out what happened to you. Do you remember how you ended up in the desert?"

No answer.

Catherine pulled a piece of paper from her kit and slid it under the woman's head. She took out a new comb and reached out to comb the woman's hair. The woman's eyes flicked to her and they stared at one another.

"Did you want to say something?" Catherine asked her.

The woman's eyes drifted back to the spot. Catherine gently combed her hair and the woman started to hum her song – over and over. The humming made both women uncomfortable. The tempo of the song was upbeat, jovial, and completely out of place.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

Brass questioned the habitat veterinarians Terri and Lacy.

Terri was distraught over what had happened, but he held it together better than Lacy. She sobbed and gasped for breaths at the same time.

Behind them Grissom processed the heavily sedated gorilla and he listened to the conversation.

"Did either of you know the victim?"

"Uhm… Yeah. Yes. She's… Takoda Red Deer."

"Takoda Red Deer?"

Grissom looked into Ralph's eyes, and man and beast stare at each other for a moment. Grissom sees intelligence in Ralph, a creature who may not know exactly what was happening, but knew enough to show sorrow. Grissom suddenly looked away to continue working.

"She's been here for six months working on her doctorate thesis. Anma handpicked her to continue her work with Ralph."

"And who is Anma?"

"His mom."

Brass glanced at the gorilla, and then back at the vets.

"So you're saying the gorilla's mom told you to give someone—"

"I don't need your cynicism, Detective Brass!"

Grissom lifted one of Ralph's hands. The firm pads of his palm was scratched and the tips of the fingers were torn.

"Okay. Okay. How'd you get permission from a gorilla?"

"His mom is Doctor Anma Scotton, a renowned anthropologist. She found him in Nigeria next to his dead mother. She rescued him and he thinks she's his mom."

"Has Ralph ever been violent before?"

"Ralph didn't kill Takoda. She was part of his pack; he never would have hurt her."

"We have a dismembered corpse and cage full of blood that says otherwise. Maybe he got tired of living behind bars."

Grissom worked his way down to Ralph's feet. Cuts cover Ralph's pads and the top of his feet. Like his fingertips, his toes are shredded. Grissom imagined how the injuries had happened.

Ralph had used his fingers and feet to dig at something very hard, such as the cement of his cage. Grissom photographs of the injuries, working his way around to the other side of Ralph to collect evidence.

"Ralph isn't violent."

"Then who did this? Who tore that young woman apart?"

The two don't know the answer to this question.

"Does anyone else have access to this area?"

"The manager, the dietician, kennel caretakers, and us."

"Have there been any problems with the habitat? Any threats? Maybe there's someone concerned about the exhibit's performance? Or someone who didn't like them being kept here?"

Grissom sat his camera aside. He arranged a piece of paper under Ralph's head, pulled a comb out of his kit, and began to gently comb through the hair on Ralph's scalp. Ralph's eyes drooped and he began making a sound like a soft purr. Grissom had a difficult time hiding his smile, but it was easier when he came across a bruised cut that was now a knot. Grissom documented the injury and resumed combing, making Ralph 'purr'.

"To our knowledge there haven't been any threats and it's performing as strongly as the lion and dolphin attractions."

"I'll need everyone's name, save the manager. Already have his."

They nodded.

"Was Ralph in a fight with another gorilla recently?" Grissom asks the veterinarians. "Maybe the other silver back I saw in the next cage?"

The two shook their heads.

"Do you know how his fingers and toes became scraped? Or how he got this cut on his head?"

Lacy rushed over to examine the injuries. She starts crying again.

"Oh, sweetheart, what have you done to yourself? What happened to you last night?"

Ralph made a low throat sound as he turned his head toward her. Grissom gave the gorilla a reassuring pat on his shoulder. Brass notices Grissom's interaction, but doesn't comment.

* * *

Grissom passed Catherine's office door. He turned around and walked back to the door. Her focus was on her paperwork and didn't see him, so he rapped lightly on the doorframe. She looked up and smiled.

"How's your case coming?" he asked her.

That earned him a long, heavy sigh. "You gave Sara and me a dead end. The woman wasn't raped and with the injuries she obtained wandering the desert, there is no way to tell if she was attacked or not."

"Jane Doe won't tell you what happened to her?"

"Jane Doe isn't talking to anyone."

"Why?"

"We don't know. Her doctor said there's no physical reason and a psychiatrist who evaluated her said he thinks she's suffered severe emotional trauma. If she won't talk, however, neither can be certain of their evaluation."

"What do you think?"

"She's either covering for someone or saw something she shouldn't have."

Sophie Curtis appeared at the door, holding up a piece of paper. She told Catherine, "A missing persons just came in that matches your victim."

To Grissom, Catherine said, "I didn't think we'd ever pick up a lead."

"Is this a woman only case?" Grissom joked.

Sophie grinned. "And we like it that way, Grissom. How's your monkey business going?"

As he left, he corrected her. "Primate. Slow. Good luck, ladies."

Catherine stood up and grabbed her jacket. She joined Sophie at the door and took the missing person's report to scan it.

With a nod she told her, "Let's me grab Sara and we'll go talk to this Joan Peters."

Catherine and Sophie headed out together.

* * *

A CSI SUV followed behind an unmarked LVPD car into the Fair Acres Mobile Park. The vehicles stopped in front of a trailer. Sophie stepped out of the unmarked car and Catherine and Sara climbed out of the SUV. The three gathered at the bottom of steps that led to the deck outside of Joan Peters' trailer. Sara noticed the trailer they are at was only four trailers from the end of the road, which opened into the desert. She stares off across the land as her subconscious tried to tickle her mind into recognizing the significance of that. Suddenly she noticed Catherine and Sophie had gone to the door without her and trotted up the stairs to join them.

Sophie knocked and the three waited. After three knocks, Joan opened the door. She looked like a tough woman, the kind that belonged in a biker gang. She wore loose paint stained jeans with holes in spots that let them know she wasn't wearing underwear. Her paint stained tank top wasn't as revealing. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail/bun. In one hand, she clutched wet paintbrushes, while in the other she puffed on a cigarette.

"Joan Peters?" Sophie asked.

In complete contradiction to her appearance, Joan asked in a quiet voice. "Yes?"

Sophie flashed her badge. "I'm Detective Curtis. This is Catherine Willow and Sara Sidle from the crime lab. We'd like to talk to you about the missing person's report you filed on a Guistina Wright."

"Did I miss something? The secretary marked all the places I had to fill out."

"The report was fine." Sophie pulled a photograph of their Jane Doe from a pocket and held it up. "Your description matches this—"

Joan dropped her brushes and ripped the photograph away.

She rushed to the opposite side of her deck yelling, "Elan! Elan!"

A window of the next trailer opened and Elan Hale popped her head out. A woman in her late 50's, she wore a bright flowered muumuu and held the end of 1920's style cigarette holder with a brown unfiltered cigarette.

"Yeah?"

Joan held the picture up. "It's Guistina!"

Elan dropped her cigarette on the ground. She leaned out her window and snatched the picture away. She stared at it for a minute before looking up at Sophie, Catherine, and Sara.

"Is she dead? Did he kill her?" Elan asked.

Sophie held out her hand for the photograph. "No. She is not dead."

In a panic, Joan barraged them with questions. "Is she in trouble? Where is she? Can we see her? Oh God. What did he do to her?"

"Hold on, ladies. Guistina was found wandering the desert. Why don't we start with where Guistina lives?"

"She's our neighbor in that trailer." Joan waved her cigarette at a newer doublewide trailer across the street. Catherine and Sara glanced at it.

"In the report you stated that she may have been missing for a week. Why are you just now filing the report?"

"He kept her locked up in there. It was normal for us not to see her for days until he went on a trip or out drinking." Joan glared at the doublewide.

"He who?" Catherine asked.

"Her fucking husband," Elan snarled. "John Wright the asshole!"

Elan's venom surprises everyone, even Joan.

"Well he is! He kept Tina locked up in that trailer like a caged bird. He never bought her anything; she had to beg for cloth to make new dresses. Once he caught her wearing a pair of pants I gave her and the next day she was covered in bruises. She is the sweetest, kindest girl you'd ever meet, but he treats her like dirt and for no good reason!"

"Tina is Guistina?" Sophie asked

"Yes," they both answered.

The familiar story makes Sara turn a glare on the trailer.

Sophie asked, "When was the last time either of you actually saw Guistina?"

"Monday," Joan answered.

"Oh nooo," Elan said, "I saw her Wednesday when I took over this pretty little canary. I thought it might brighten her day. She loved that thing! Prettiest little cage too.

Joan told them, "You know, though, John's been home for a while and we haven't seen her. It's strange for him to be home so long. And how did she get out in the desert without him stopping her?"

With a confirming head nod, Elan said, "He probably drank himself stupid and she was able to slip away."

"Then why didn't she come to one of us?" Joan asked, looking at her neighbor.

Elan didn't know that answer.

"Is she okay?" Joan asked. "Is she really okay or… What is wrong with her?"

Catherine offered a sympathetic smile. "She won't talk to anyone. She's catatonic."

"What the hell does a cat in a tonic have to do with this?" Elan asked.

"Catatonic, Elan. Maybe she'd snap out of it if we visited her," Joan suggested

"Not yet. We'll let you know when she can have visitors. Thank you for your help."

The two nodded. Sophie and the CSIs crossed the street and Sophie knocked on the door of the trailer.

No answer.

She knocked three more times but there was no answer. She tried the door handle and found the door hadn't been shut all the way. She drew her gun and flicked the safety off. Catherine and Sara stepped back, giving her room to clear the trailer.

Sophie called out, "Las Vegas police."

She pushed the door open. The stench of decay forced all three women down the steps.

"Something is dead in there," Sophie commented.

"Something tells me it is Mister Wright," Catherine added.

Sara told Catherine, "I'll start on the perimeter."

Catherine nodded.

Sophie walked slowly inside, keeping her weapon in her hand until she felt safe enough to holster it. Catherine was right behind her.

The living room is immaculate. Not one thing looked out of place. As the two head to the kitchen at the front of the trailer, Catherine glanced at a large sewing basket next to a wingback chair. On top is a half-finished dress.

Coming around the breakfast bar the two find the kitchen is a mess. Dishes and utensils are scattered across the counter, flour coated the counters and floors, and something leaked from the open refrigerator adding to the mess.

"Looks like a struggle in here," Sophie pointed out.

"Yeah, but who won?"

"I'm going to check the rest of the trailer," Sophie said and left Catherine to begin processing the scene.

Catherine sat her kit down and began to snap pictures. There were shoe and barefoot prints in the flour. She noticed a small patch of red substance on the handle of the refrigerator.

From the other side of the trailer she heard Sophie say, "I found Mr. Wright, Catherine."

Catherine left the scene to find Sophie. She passed a room and paused. Inside was an accountant's office and compared to the rest of the trailer it was a mess. She passed the bathroom where everything was neat, tidy, and perfectly aligned. The next room is setup as a guest room and everything in it is just as neat and tidy. Catherine walked into the master bedroom.

Lying in the bed was the bloated, discolored corpse of John Wright. A white cotton rope still dangled from his neck. The other side of the bed was neat and nothing else in the room had been disturbed.

"Is it me, or does it look like that man did not put up a fight?" Sophie asked.

"Either that or this is staged. You know, I've seen that rope today."

"Where?"

"There was a small sailboat behind Joan's trailer, on the other side. I noticed it when we were pulling up and the rope looked similar to this rope." Catherine thought about the information. "Tell Sara too look for rope like it, and maybe ask Joan if we can have the rope off her sailboat."

"Without a warrant?" Sophie asked.

"Something tells me she might be giving, if she thinks it will help her friend."

"Will do." Sophie left. "And then I'll call the coroner."

"Thank you."

Catherine looked around the room again. There wasn't the presence of a woman in the room. She could only imagine the tyrant John Wright must have been.

* * *

Sara spotted a spool of white rope half hidden behind a lawn mower in the shed. She pulled a paper bag from her kit and retrieved the spool. She sat it aside and continued looking. Between the trailer and storage shed was a pile of junk parts, but Sara caught sight of something that did not appear to belong.

Sara moved in closer and pulled the item out. It was a birdcage with ornate metalwork. She held it up for closer inspection. Along the edge there is dried blood, and the cage door was slightly bent. Her instincts tell her the cage has a lot to do with this case, just as the road ending at the has.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Grissom passed a hallway reading a file, not seeing Nick. Nick jogged to catch up with him.

"Grissom," Nick called.

Grissom stopped and turned. Nick handed him a piece of paper with a small photo on it.

"Found Takoda Red Deer," Nick told him. "She was finishing her doctorate in psychology at UNLV."

The information confuses Grissom. "Nick, we already know who our victim is."

"Yeah, but that gorilla killed her and—"

"We don't know that he did. We follow the evidence, not jump to conclusions."

"You don't think he murdered her, do you?"

"I don't have enough evidence to make a conclusive decision. Have you gone over the security footage?"

"No. They said they'll have it to me tomorrow, which they said yesterday too."

"Keep on top of it."

Their cell phones rang at the same time. Grissom walked away as he answered his. Nick looked at his phone. It read WENDY, followed by the text message: Blood samples ready.

* * *

Catherine and Sara pulled the roll of rope, noose, and boat rope from individual evidence bags. Various cutting instruments had been placed across the table. Sara held up the boat rope for Catherine to see.

"The cut pattern on these ropes isn't like anything I've seen before," she told her.

Catherine picked up a magnifying glass and examined the unique cut. The cut was clean, but the outside threads are shorter than the inside strands. Catherine then compared the end from the noose and roll, and the roll to the rope from the boat. The cut pattern matched on all of the ropes.

"Let's see if anything we have will make this cut," Catherine told Sara.

Using an identical type of rope from a new roll, the two test the various instruments, trying to replicate the pattern. With the last cutting instrument used, they stared at the cut ropes.

"Well… It's enough to get a warrant for Joan," Catherine states.

"But not Elan."

Sara's phone goes off and she looks at the text message sent.

"Wendy has my blood sample. I'll be right back."

Sara left Catherine to work on the mysterious cut pattern.

* * *

Greg entered the DNA lab to find Wendy staring at several papers. He stopped next to her to read over her shoulder. She quickly flattened it against her chest casting an ornery smile at him.

Teasing she tells him, "You made a mistake, Greg. A classic, classic mistake."

He returned her smile. "I did? What was it?"

Nick joined them. "You called?"

"Greg is in sooooo much trouble, Nick," Wendy told him. "He goofed big time!"

That made Nick grin. "Oh yeah? What do I get to never let him live down now?"

"The blood in the gorilla cage, the stuff that Greg was _so_ sure would seal poor Ralph's fate, is, in fact… pig's blood."

Greg yanked the papers from her, staring at it. "All of those samples are pig's blood? How… How the heck does a gorilla get pigs blood in his cage?"

"That's your first question?" Nick asked, laughing at him.

"Just great," Greg muttered, staring at the papers.

"What about mine?" Nick asked her.

Wendy turned and retrieved a sheet off the printer. "What two species on the planet have ninety-eight to ninety-nine percent of the same DNA markers as humans?"

"Chimpanzees and gorillas. The blood is gorilla?"

Wendy relinquished the paper. "Bingo! And not just any monkey's blood."

Nick frowned at his paper. "It was Ralph's. Great. We're back to square one."

"Hope Grissom's evidence gives us a lead," Greg told them.

Sara walks into the lab. "So this is where the party is, huh?"

"It's the DNA party!" Wendy grinned. She picked up a paper next to the printer and handed it to Sara. "The blood on the birdcage belongs to the neighbor, Elan Hale. Catherine's sample, from the refrigerator, was the victim's blood. And Joan Peters' epidurals were on all the rope samples."

"Thanks, Wendy." Sara headed out to find Catherine.

"That's all the good news I have for today, boys."

The two leave the lab together.

"Grissom wants the monkey to be innocent. This will make his night." Greg shook his head

"Primate, Greg! Gorillas aren't monkeys."

"Hey, was that your uncle in the next cage? He sure looked like you, especially from the backside."

"Stop proving you're twelve."

Wendy turned back to her work, laughing at the two.

* * *

Grissom stopped in the door of his office, staring at the back of Anma Scotton. She sat in the chair before his desk. She had an overstuffed canvas messenger bag on her lap that she held under a weather beaten, sweat stained safari hat. Her long black hair, twisted into a single braid, almost touched the floor. Her attention was on Grissom's collection of oddities across from her.

Grissom cleared his throat, continuing to his desk. The woman looked up at him, watching him sit down across from her.

"I'm G—"

"Doctor Gilbert Grissom. I know. I'm Doctor Anma Scotton, Ralph's owner. What evidence have you collected that says Ralph committed a murder? Or do my lawyers need to request your findings so we can contest it?"

Grissom was a little taken back by her confrontation. "Lawyers?"

"Do I?"

Grissom smiled. "You're a very caring parent, Doctor Scotton. Many human children don't have parents that would be willing to call a team of lawyers to their defense."

"Thank you. Could answer my question?"

"The evidence is still being analyzed and collected; therefore, Ralph's guilt or innocence has not been determined."

"You've already made a decision on it, haven't you? So far everyone else I've spoken to about this case has, including the district attorney, believes he is guilty."

"I assure you, Doctor Scotton, I'm not everyone else. Until I have conclusive evidence, Ralph is neither innocent nor guilty, and I can assure you that as soon as I know, so will you."

He couldn't read the hard stare she held on him. She sat her hat on the desk and pulled a folder from her bag.

She skimmed it, saying, "You know sign language, I see."

Grissom was intrigued. "Is that about me?"

"Yes."

"And how did you obtain it, may I ask?"

"I have friends in very high places."

Grissom smiled and it enticed her to reflect it.

"At this point you should be mad," Scotton told him.

"On the contrary, Doctor Scotton, I'm impressed by your thoroughness. Again, you are a very good parent. I can appreciate your concern and determination to help your child."

"How well do you know sign language?"

Grissom's cell phone rang and he retrieved it to glance at the screen. It displayed CORONER. He sat it aside, continuing his conversation.

"Why do you ask?"

"Ralph has the largest American sign language vocabulary of any primate ever taught."

The news was a breakthrough for Grissom. If Ralph could help identify who really killed Takoda Red Deer and clear himself! "That will be very helpful. Thank you for telling me this. Does Ralph grasp the concept of death?"

"I can't say. He was a couple weeks old when his mother was murdered. Since then he has not been exposed to anything that had died."

Grissom nodded a couple times. "I will do my best to help him understand what happened to his friend. Is there anything in particular that would help my communication with him?"

"Me."

"I can't allow you to speak to him right now. It isn't that I don't believe you would coerce him, but if we are going to be able to use his testimony, it must be unbiased."

Anma looked at his shelf. He followed her gaze to his well cared for termite colony. When he looked back, she was holding out three candy bars to him.

"We have a code so he knows when I send someone new to talk to him. If you want to talk to him, you must do exactly as I instruct."

He took the candy bars and picked up a notepad and pen. "Please explain the code."


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

A convoy entered Fair Acres Mobile Park consisting of an unmarked LVPD car, a CSI SUV, and two squad cars. They pulled up outside of Joan's trailer as she and Elan come out. Joan carried the sewing basket that had been in the Wright trailer.

Catherine hurried to get out, glancing at the Wright trailer across the street. The police tape dangled from the door. The women had pulled it off to go inside.

The group surrounded the two women.

"Ma'am, put that basket down," Catherine orders.

Both women stare the group.

"It's just a sewing basket. The hospital called me and said Guistina was asking for it."

Sara pulled on rubber gloves, prepared to take the basket from Joan.

"Did you go into her trailer to get it?" Sophie asked.

"Yes. It's her trailer and her basket."

"It is evidence and you tampered with a crime scene to get it," Catherine informed her. "Put the basket down."

Sara walked up to Joan, grabbing the other side of the handles. For a moment it looked like Joan might fight for it, but she finally released the basket. Sara returned to the SUV with the basket, watching officers arrest Elan and Joan.

* * *

Grissom entered the autopsy room. Doctor Robbins leaned over the exam table, aligning the pieces of Takoda on the table.

"I was in an interview," Grissom explained. "You called?"

"Greg said the gorilla's surrogate mother had arrived unannounced. How'd that go?"

"She's worried."

"I found subdural bruising when I photographed the body." Robbins led Grissom over to a computer screen with the photographs. "Her neck, wrists, and ankles were bound before she was dismembered. I also found a contusion that broke through the skull, most likely a blow that killed her before she was dismembered." Robbins turned to Grissom with a smile, but it faded when he recognized Grissom's expression – he's not surprised.

"You knew I'd find this."

"The evidence is pointing toward a human killer. I didn't know you'd find this, but it doesn't surprise me."

Grissom called a number on his cell phone. "Greg, get a camcorder and meet me out front." Grissom smiled. "We're going to record an interview." Grissom hung up. "Thank you Albert."

Robbins nodded, watching him leave in a hurry.

* * *

Elan sat with her hands folded on the table. She was placid and didn't look too concerned that she was in an interview room. Sara entered the room with a manila folder and sat in the chair opposite of Elan. When she looked up, Elan smiled. Sara almost returned it until she remembered why she was there.

"You waived your right to a lawyer," Sara noted.

"Innocent people don't need lawyers, honey."

Sara doesn't reflect the warmth in the comment. Right now she considered Elan a cold-blooded killer, until the interview showed otherwise. Sara pulled a photograph out of the folder and sat it down in front of Elan. It was a blown up image of the blood found on the birdcage.

"The blood here says you handled it while you were bleeding. Yesterday you told us that you gave Guistina a canary as a pet, but we haven't been able to find it. Only a damaged cage. Did you change your mind?"

"A missing bird and a little blood is what all this fuss is about?"

"Both. What happened, Elan?"

"Nothing."

"Then you can explain the blood in the cage, I suppose."

Elan extended her hand, palm up, to Sara. She pulled back a bandage, revealing a cut along the side of her palm. Along the edges, the cut had bruised.

"Honey, growing old is a curse to humans. I have skin like tissue paper. I have arthritis and a shuffle is as fast as I go these days. I'm on Coumadin and bleed like I had water in my veins."

"How did your blood get in the birdcage?"

"Do you recall I said I bought the bird to keep Guistina company?"

Sara does.

"I was putting food and water in the cage for her and scraped it on the door. You should have seen her face, honey. It was like gold to get that pretty little bird. She hung it up in front of the window and when it started singing, she sang back. Oh, honey, you should have heard her voice! I could have sworn the heavens opened up and gave her music. She said she was in her church choir before she married John – never knew that about her. Funny how animals make people different isn't it?"

"If only we could laugh about it."

Elan sadly nods. "I know you and those other two ladies think maybe Joan did this, but she didn't. Joan looks like she could rip your limbs off but she is sweet and she was Guistina's best, probably only, friend. She wanted to get her out of that house, but not like this. Nothing like this."

"We'll see." Sara stood and left.

* * *

Grissom, Greg, and Terri stopped outside Ralph's cage. Greg hid his nervousness by moving the handheld video camera from one hand to the other.

Inside Ralph sat in a corner, staring out at the habitat. Terri opened the door into the cage but the gorilla didn't respond.

Grissom stopped inside the door, telling Terri, "Thank you. I'll let you know when we're ready to leave."

Terri starts to argue.

"Anma should be calling any minute to okay this visit. We need to speak to Ralph alone, Terri."

Terri challenged what Grissom was going to do. "Do either of you know sign language?"

"Yes, I do."

Terri doesn't look convinced.

"You'll be down the hall, won't you?" Grissom interrupted. "If there is any trouble we'll call you."

Terri glanced at Greg. He offered a nervous smile. Terri turned and left the two with Ralph.

Grissom dug a candy bar out of his jacket pocket and peeled one open. That gets Ralph's attention. Grissom sat the open candy bar on the floor and then motioned between it and Ralph. Ralph picked it up and began eating.

Grissom sat down in front of him, motioning Greg to start recording. Greg turned the camera on and pushed record. Grissom signed while he spoke with Ralph.

"Hello, Ralph. Your mother sent you candy bars. She said you could have one now and the others after we've talked. Is that okay?"

Ralph softly grunted with a nod. Grissom smiled but he was very careful not to show his teeth. Ralph looked past Grissom. He turned, finding Greg hovering far back by the door.

"Sit down, Greg."

Greg shook his head.

"Greg, sit down."

Greg shook his head more adamantly.

"He won't harm you. Sit down so you can record the conversation."

"I'm good from right here. I'm catching the audio."

Grissom considered arguing but Greg's fear was on his sleeve and pushing him wouldn't do any good. Grissom turned his attention back to Ralph.

"This is Greg." Grissom pointed up at Greg, and then placed a hand on his chest. "I'm Gil. I looked at you the last time I saw you. Do you remember?"

Ralph nodded, signing something.

Grissom carefully smiled again. "Yes. I brushed your hair for you. Are you friends with Takoda?"

Ralph nodded.

"My friends and I looked at what happened to Takoda. We know you didn't hurt her. Can you tell me who did?"

Ralph signed and it confused Grissom.

"The clean man hurt your old new friend? Who is the clean man? Who is your old new friend?"

Ralph signed the same thing again. Grissom thought about the words.

"Is your old new friend Takoda?"

Ralph nodded.

"Can you tell me about the time the clean man hurt your old new friend?"

Ralph began to sign. Grissom can see the scene as Ralph signs what he saw the night Takoda's body parts was left in his cage.

#

A faceless man walked up to the hallway door and made a noise to wake up Ralph. He sat up, watching the man. The man signed something and then the door into the habitat opened. Ralph walked out into the habitat. The door closed behind him. He glanced back, and then walked over to the other cage doors. The other gorillas are still sleeping. He heard something in his cage and returned to it.

The faceless man splashed buckets of liquid on the walls of Ralph's cage. The red liquid almost oozed down the wall. The faceless man went into the hall and with great effort, pulled a gunnysack into the room. He began scattering the parts of Takoda Red Deer around Ralph's cage. He placed her head on the floor and it rolled toward Ralph. Her skin had turned pasty white and her wide clouded eyes stare unblinking at him. Ralph doesn't understand what was wrong with his friend but he knew it was bad and that the faceless man has hurt her.

Ralph grabbed the bars and tried shaking them loose. When he can't, he beat the bars with his hands and head, and then he tried to dig at the dirt right outside the cage. All he accomplishes was leaving patches of hair and blood on the bars, slightly bend the bars, and making scratch marks in the dirt.

The faceless man left and the habitat door opened. Ralph ran up to Takoda's head, picking it up. He lifted her face up to his, making grunting noises. His grunts become more frantic the longer she didn't respond. He collected the pieces of her and went into the habitat. The other gorillas are let out of their cages and several wandered into the habitat.

Ralph went from one to the other, trying to get the other gorillas to help him. The primates either turn away or screech at him. He moved to an area by himself, with his back to the windows. He sat Takoda pieces down and tried to put her back together again. In the hall outside the habitat, the newlyweds strolled up to the observation window. Ralph glanced back when Serena screamed.

The hall quickly filled with hotel employees, followed by police and onlookers. A sound drew the other gorillas back into their cages and the doors closed. Through another door, Terri entered with a tranquilizer gun. Ralph held the pieces out to him, trying to ask his human friend for help fix his broken friend. Terri began to cry.

"I am so sorry, Ralph, I… I can't." He lifted his tranquilizer gun and shot Ralph.

The world blurred to black.

#

Ralph sighed. He dropped his hands in his lap. Grissom started to speak when he noticed Greg was sitting next to him. The young CSI stared at Ralph, stunned by the story the gorilla just told them. Grissom returned his focus on Ralph.

"But who is the clean man?" Greg whispered.

Grissom considered the question. He came up with an idea to figure that out and began signing as he spoke to Ralph.

"Ralph, what do you call the person that brings you food?"

Ralph signed.

"Food woman. And the man and woman that have the things they put in their ears and listen to your chest?"

Ralph signed.

"Mother calls them the sick man and woman." Grissom smiled a little. "Ralph, what does the clean man do?"

Ralph signed.

"He changes the smell of my cage from me to something else. He picks up when I make messes on the floor."

"The janitor?" Greg asked.

Grissom answered Greg first. "Yes. The janitor." To Ralph he said, "I'm sorry this human hurt your friend. I will find him. We will make him understand that what he did was very bad."

Ralph lifted his chin, staring down his nose at Grissom. Grissom started to sign and speak, but Ralph stopped him with a loud snort.

For several moments, man and beast stared at each other. Ralph signed and Grissom smiled.

"He said he believes I will do that."

Grissom leaned forward as he pulled the other two candy bars from his pocket. He reached out to set them on the floor and Ralph leaned forward, faster than Grissom could retreat. He grabbed Grissom's hand, staring him in the eye and growled.

"What?"

Ralph answers, and then leaned back, again looking down his nose at Grissom.

Grissom smiled, holding out the candy bars. Ralph took them from his hand.

Grissom signed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Lazily Ralph signed back and Grissom chuckled.

"What did he say?" Greg whispered.

"He asked if I found coconuts. Ralph, they don't grow in Las Vegas."

Ralph signed again and Grissom chuckled harder. He told Greg, "He said I should find one and bring it next time. We could share it."

Grissom stood up. Greg leaps to his feet, staying behind Grissom.

The two went to the cage door and Grissom called out, "Terri, we're done."

Terri came out of the veterinarian room and let the two out. Outside, Grissom turned to him.

"Who cleans Ralph's cage?"

"Steve Perinski. Why?"

"I'm going to need his contact information. He may be able to help us."

"I'll go get it." Terri hurried off to get the information.

Grissom looks back at Ralph. He stared at the habitat, looking thoughtful as he munched his candy bar.

"Did he really say all of that, Grissom?" Greg asked.

Grissom smiled. "I had to interpret some of what he was saying. His language skill is that of a five year old."

"Do you really think the DA will accept this as evidence?"

"I hope so."

Ralph heaved a bored sigh when a gorilla ran past his door.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Catherine and Joan sat across from each other. Catherine placed photos on the table as she spoke: magnified ends of the roll, the rope that strangled John Wright, and the one from Joan's sailboat.

"You really hated John Wright, I imagine. Watching him beat on Guistina and not being able to do anything. You probably got to the point that you decided to do something about it." Catherine looked up at her and envisioned how this crime occurred…

#

John Wright watched television, oblivious to Joan standing outside the window watching him. Guistina sits in the chair next to him. The recent struggle to survive her husband's temper left her bruised and shaken; she doesn't even notice the news on the television. John stood and shut off the television. She quickly stood and hurried down the hall ahead of him.

The lights in the trailer are turned off and an hour passed. Down the hall the floor creaked, then silence. Closer to the bedroom, the floor creaked again. Joan melted out of the shadows, holding a rope tied in a noose. The noose in her hands was ready to claim its victim's life.

She crept up to the bed, carefully slipped the rope around John's neck, and slowly tightened it so he wouldn't wake up. He did wake but it was too late to even struggle.

The bed moving woke Guistina and the scene terrified her. With John Wright dead, Joan let the rope go and reached out to her friend.

Guistina screamed and ran out of the bedroom.

#

Joan shook her head adamantly. "I didn't kill him."

"The cut on these three ends match. The rope came from the same roll."

"Since it's my rope, I'm not surprised. The bastard came over two weeks ago and took it. I realized it was gone when I needed it to tie up my sail and went over to ask for it back. He told me I could buy another one. I yelled a lot but eventually left. Then Tina brought me some while he was out, so I let it go. He'd just take his anger out on her if I did anything."

Catherine pulled another paper out of the folder and skimmed it. "He filed several charges against you: assault, destruction of property, theft. Two pages, in fact."

"Did you happen to look at the charges the jerk filed on all his neighbors? He was always fighting with someone about something, not just me."

"The matching rope wasn't found on the property of your other neighbors, Joan."

Joan sat back, shaking her head. "Did you find anything else? Anything more concrete that links me to murdering someone?"

Catherine doesn't answer, because the answer is no.

Realizing she just called Catherine's bluff, Joan sadly shook her head. "Well, when you come in here with actual evidence, that actually puts my hands on the rope around his neck, then we'll talk."

"Yes we will." Catherine collected the photographs, got up, and walked out.

* * *

In the hall, Catherine let her emotions out. She shot daggers at Joan through the window in the door, but Joan was looking somewhere else. She didn't hear Sara come up behind her.

"Yours went well too, I take it?" Sara asked.

Catherine turned to her. "I just have to place the rope in their hands."

"Not Elan's."

"Why?"

"She told me she is taking Coumadin and has arthritis. I called her doctor, and then had Wendy verify her medications in her blood sample. She's telling the truth. That woman couldn't have killed John Wright."

Catherine looks back at Joan. "I know that they're both perfect for this, but…"

"But the evidence is telling us to look somewhere else."

Catherine's cell phone began to ring. "Willows." She listened to the caller and frowned. "And she's said nothing else? Nothing at all? Okay. Thanks." Catherine hung up, telling Sara, "They moved Guistina Wright to the psychiatric floor. She's asking for her sewing basket but hasn't said anything else."

"I feel so sorry for her," Sara admits. "Everything in her closet was hand sewn. He made her work for everything in her life. That quilt on the bed was beautiful. It's hard to imagine someone with such a traumatic life would be able to create something so beautiful."

The two are silent for a moment, reflecting on evidence, trying to figure this mystery out.

Archie passed them and then came back. "I've been looking everywhere for you two." He joined them, handing a digital recorder to Catherine with a Post-It note attached. "I was finally able to find the song the woman's humming on that recording."

"You recorded her humming?" Sara asked.

"I thought it might give us something." Catherine looked at the paper. "Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Jordan, Stone Cold Dead in the Market [2]?"

"The song she's humming is Stone Cold Dead in the Market. The original artists were Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Jordan."

"Never heard of them."

"Oh really?" Archie offered an ornery smile. "I thought you were born in the early 40s?"

Catherine's jaw almost dropped. Sara laughed with Archie.

"I'm kidding, Catherine."

"You'd better be!"

"However, that song was popular after it became a hit in 1946. Do you want to know what the song is about?"

"Someone is dead in the market, I would assume?"

"You're partially right. The guy comes home, beats his wife, she kills him in the market. Rather eerie considering the case you've got here."

"I'd say. Thanks Archie."

He hurried away, leaving the women with the new information. To Catherine, the song means nothing.

To Sara, having learned to look beyond the obvious in cases like this, the dots suddenly connected and the web of life and death became clear to her.

"Catherine…" Sara suddenly stood. "I think the answer is in the sewing basket."

Having no epiphany of her own, Catherine told her, "Let's go take a look at it."

* * *

Grissom, Nick, and Greg were packing evidence when District Attorney Daniel Woodrow stormed in and threw a case file in the middle of the evidence.

"You actually expect me to go to court with the testimony of a monkey as my sole evidence in prosecuting a human, Gil?" Woodrow snapped.

The three stopped moving. Nick and Greg both looked to Grissom.

"Primate, and yes."

Woodrow shook his head. "I cannot – I _will not_ – prosecute that man on this. It is omissible, regardless of what the monkey is, what you think he knows, or who owns it. All you've managed to do is prove the monkey is innocent, but not that Steve Perinski killed Takoda Red Deer. Get me tangible evidence, something that won't get me laughed out of court, or _I_ will move to have the case thrown out." Woodrow stormed out.

Grissom frowned at the folder, but he could feel the eyes of his CSI on him.

"Should we unpack all the boxes?" Greg asked.

Grissom shook his head.

"He won't use it. We need to find something else. Nick, did you ever get the video from the surveillance cameras?"

Nick thought about the question. "I think we did. I didn't check after you spoke to Ralph."

"Go over it. Greg and I will go to Mister Perinski's residence and see what we can find."

Nick left. Grissom continued packing evidence.

"Greg, we need a warrant. Go get one."

"On it!" Greg rushed out.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Catherine and Sara stood next to each other with the basket on the table before them. The women donned gloves, preparing to sift through the basket.

Sara noticed a smell. "How does the smell of death seem to get into everything?"

"I don't know, but the faster we get this out of here, the happier the rest of the lab will be with us."

Catherine saw an overstuffed pouch and rolled up pouch tucked along the side, and pulled both out. Slowly and carefully, Sara sifted through the fabric.

The overstuffed pouch is a variety of sewing accessories and nothing no murder weapon. She unrolled the second pouch and found it contained a dozen of well cared for scissors for a variety of sewing projects.

On the other side of the table was the new roll of rope. Catherine pulled the roll over to her. She cut a piece of rope off with one pair of scissors, examined the cut it made under a magnifying glass, and moved to the next pair of scissors. When she made a cut with a pair of pinking shears, the cut pattern was identical.

Meanwhile, Sara had emptied half the basket when she felt something hard under her hand. She pulled layers of cloth back, uncovering a velvet-covered box and releasing a stronger scent of decay. Sara pulled the box out and sat it before her. She carefully untied the ribbon around it and lifted the lid. The object inside made Sara want to cry.

Catherine turned to tell Sara she'd found the scissors and noticed her expression. She looked down at the small, lifeless, yellow canary inside the velvet box. Sara gently lifted the small corpse from its coffin and the head flopped over the side of her hand.

"It was one of Guistina's scissors that cut the noose," Catherine told her.

Sara didn't look up from the dead bird. Catherine stared at the matching rope cut. The evidence has revealed a truth that neither woman was prepared to face.

* * *

Nick and Archie sat side by side before a monitor that showed five different angles of the gorilla habitat. None of the angles gave him a direct view into the habitat.

"The call came in at 2:45am," Nick told Archie. "The witnesses said they thought it was around 2:30am when they saw Ralph with the body. Doc Robbins couldn't get an exact time of death due to the way she was murdered, so… It had to be after everyone left."

"Which was?"

"The vets said everyone leaves around 9 pm. We'll have to look from there."

Archie began scrubbing the video to 9pm and slowed the forward down. Around the time stamp of 11pm, Nick saw something in the corner of one of the videos.

"Stop." He pointed at the video. "Go back some. Here. On this one."

Archie did. The angle of the camera didn't give a good view of what was happening. All the men can see is a sliver of a shadow on the habitat floor. Archie matched the time code of the other angles but there is nothing better.

"Go forward. Slower," Nick ordered.

Archie advanced the video. Ralph appeared suddenly and Archie stopped, playing the video at normal speed. In several cameras, they see Ralph wander into view, looking toward the windows. He spun around, staring back toward his cage. He stood on his hind legs and looked like a man yelling. Suddenly he charged out of sight.

"Aren't there any better angles?"

"They sent another DVD-R. Let's see what it has."

Archie switched out the DVD's. The angles on these cameras are different but not much better. One showed 3/4 of the bottom of Ralph's door. Another camera was a full view of the other cage doors but only three or four bars of Ralph's cage.

Nick pointed to those two videos. "Let try these two."

Archie runs them to 9pm and used a slow fast forward to advance to 11pm.

Like Ralph told Grissom, his door opened and he goes into the habitat. In the other cages, two gorillas wake up and watch him, but the rest barely move. Something liquid splattered out of Ralph's cage, drawing his attention.

The men see a pair of human legs appear and gloved hands dousing the edges of the cage with of blood. The legs and hands disappeared. Suddenly Ralph charged at the cage door.

Ralph grabbed the bars and starts tugging on them. He works himself into a frenzy as he tries to get back in the cage. The noise wakes the other gorillas. The habitat doors on all the cages open.

The other gorillas meandered out into the habitat, but Ralph ran into his. A few minutes later, he came out carrying the pieces of Takoda Red Deer. He goes from gorilla to gorilla, but they either turn away or screech at him. Eventually he sat down by himself and started looking at the pieces he has.

"Freeze it there," Nick quietly said.

"What is he doing?" Archie asked.

The answer sickened Nick. "He's trying to… He wants to put her back together. He… He didn't know… That he couldn't fix her."

Archie looked at Nick, surprised to see Nick taking this discovery so hard. Archie looked back at the frozen image and understood why. The majestic gorilla was reduced to a desperate primate trying to fix a dead friend, unable to comprehend why it would never work.

* * *

Steve Perinski's home was on a large plot surrounded by a ten-foot privacy fence. The land served as a buffer home between a residential and industrial neighborhood. The small two-bedroom house should have been condemned. Small patches of grass in the front yard struggled to survive neglect. The rest of the yard was hard packed clay. On the far side was a large tin barn with double doors. It was newer than the house and in better condition. At the back of the property, derelict cars are parked in an orderly line against the fence – save one.

A patrol car and CSI SUV pulled onto the property and park in the middle of the yard. Everyone climbed out. Greg carried a field kit and Grissom had a camera hanging off his shoulder. The officers waited by the patrol car, letting the CSI work.

"Whatever he tore her apart with I assume was outside," Grissom said.

Greg looked at the house and barn. "You don't think he did it inside? Where no one could hear her scream?"

"Robbins found a contusion on her head that would have killed her. She was likely dead when he dismembered her, so I doubt he did that inside the house. Maybe the barn."

The two headed toward the barn. Greg looked at the line of cars and noticed something that stopped him.

"Grissom… Does that pickup look out of place?"

Grissom looked at an old, beat up pickup Greg pointed out. The vehicle was parked in front of a dump truck.

"Yes it does."

The two walked over to the pickup. Greg pulled on gloves and opened the door. He pulled infrared glasses on and swept the inside of the pickup with a UV light.

Grissom walked to the back and found a substance on the tailgate and bumper that looked suspiciously like blood. Across the tailgate and the front of the dump truck were splatters of what also looked like blood. He photographed the spots, pulled on gloves, and then retrieved three pre-moistened swab from a shirt pocket. He swabbed the bumper, tailgate, and front of the dump truck. All three swabs turned pink.

"There's blood on the bumper, tailgate, and grill of the dump truck, Greg. Can you test these for human or animal blood?"

Greg came back and prepared a test strip. He handed it to Grissom to wait for the result and then dropped to the ground, looking under the pickup. He saw large spot of dirt that was darker than the rest. He climbed under the pickup and shone his flashlight on the spot. The clay made it impossible to tell if it was blood or something else.

The DNA test in Grissom's hand came back positive for human DNA. "This is human blood," Grissom told Greg.

"The ground under here is discolored."

"Get a sample of the dirt. Then we have to find our pig donor."

Greg pulled his kit to him and took out a test tube and small wedge trowel. He collected a sample and climbed out.

"On to the barn?" Greg asked.

Grissom nodded. The two walked over to the barn. They pushed open a door. On their left were several pigpens with large pigs snorting and rummaging through empty troughs. To the right, the barn was setup for butchering pigs.

"If this doesn't scream killer…" Greg quietly said.

Grissom's attention was on blood soaked ropes hanging on a wall. He walked over and found bits of skin caught in the rope. His instincts told him this was not pigskin.

"Greg, I need another DNA test."

Greg handed one over and then walked over to three bone saws hung on the wall. They were clean, but Greg knew blades never really came clean. He tested them and one tested positive for human DNA. Grissom's test of the blood on the skin also comes back positive for human DNA.

Grissom made a light joke when he told Greg, "I think the defense will have their work cut out."

Greg smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

Catherine and Sara waited silently in the interview room. A bulky envelope sat on the table next to Sara. Catherine folded her hands on the table over of a folder.

They looked up when the door opened. A female police officer and female orderly led Guistina in and sat her in a chair across from them. She was dressed in an orange jumpsuit that still couldn't hide how think the woman was. Someone had re-braided her hair into a neat French braid, but it was still lifeless, just like she was. Her eyes stared at an infinite spot on the table.

"Mrs. Wright, we'd like to ask you about the night your husband was murdered," Catherine told her.

Guistina's eyes don't move from the spot on the table.

"Guistina, did you murder your husband?" Catherine asked.

She remained mute.

Catherine pulled out a photo of the noose, placing it in the spot Guistina stared. "Do you recognize this? Did you murder him with this?"

She gave Guistina time to answer, but she never would.

"Mrs. Wright, tell us what happened the night your husband died," Catherine told her.

No response.

Catherine slid a photo of Guistina's sewing basket in front of her. She doesn't respond to it.

"Is this your sewing basket? Is this what you've been asking for? Why did you want it?"

Guistina doesn't answer.

Catherine was starting to get frustrated. "Guistina, please tell me what happened that night."

Guistina doesn't.

"I think I know why you had to kill him, Guistina." Sara leaned forward on the table.

Catherine wasn't surprised that Sara spoke up, but what she said does. Sara was staring at Guistina different than she did other killers. Catherine realized her co-worker felt sorry for this woman.

Sara told the room why she thinks Guistina snapped and killed her husband.

#

John Wright sat in the living room watching television. Guistina was in the kitchen making bread. Each time she passed the cage of her new pet, she sang a few lyrics of various songs. Her voice sounds like an angel without a single note off key. John became more annoyed by the singing as it continued.

John suddenly stood and stormed into the kitchen. She instantly sobered, watching the man glare at her.

"Get rid of it," John ordered.

She stared at him. "What?"

"Get rid of the damned bird."

The silence that follows was tense. She slowly shook her head.

"No."

"Get rid of it, or I will."

"I'm keeping it, John. I like the bird."

He grabbed for the cage and Guistina lunged to protect her new pet. The two fought, tearing up the kitchen. He slammed her head against the refrigerator door handle. The hit dazed her and she fell to the floor. He grabbed the cage from the hook, yanked the door open, and pulled the bird out. The bird squawked in his tight grip, struggling to be free.

"No. John, no. Please. I'll give it away. Don't hurt it."

He snapped the yellow bird's neck and tossed it to her. He dropped the cage on the floor, scattering the food and water inside across the floured floor.

"Now you don't have any reason to sing. Clean up this mess."

John went back to watching television. Guistina picked up the dead bird, staring at the helpless creature. She didn't cry. She didn't start cleaning up the mess. Her face lost all hint of emotion.

By killing the last shred of humanity in his wife, John Write has put a timer on his life.

#

Sara stood up, carrying the envelope with her. She opened it and slid out the box, treating it like a valuable possession. She sat it down in front of Guistina.

The catatonic woman responded to this. She reached out and pulled the ribbon off. She lifted the dead canary out of the box and quietly sung 'Stone Cold Dead in the Market' to it.

Despite her warm, angelic voice, and the upbeat tempo of the song, the lyrics are chilling. In hindsight, perhaps twice as much, John lived out the story in the song.

* * *

Steve Perinski and his lawyer, Penny Marshall, waited in an interview room. Grissom and Nick entered and sat down across from them. Grissom sat the folder in his hand on the table.

"Your evidence had better not be just the monkey's testimony," Marshall warned them.

Grissom opened his mouth to rebuttal, but Nick beat him to it.

"_Gorilla_. Learn your primates," Nick snapped.

Grissom was a little surprised by the venom in Nick's tone. He hadn't been aware that Nick cared what happened to Ralph.

"Mister Perinski, we noticed that you have swine on your property and you slaughter them yourself," Grissom told him.

"That's not illegal," Perinski argued.

"No, however…" Grissom pulled out enlarged photos of Ralph's cage in the state it was first found. He lined them up in front of Steve. "…all this blood is swine."

"That could have come from anywhere," Marshall disputed.

"DNA markers in swine are just as unique as they are in humans." Grissom retrieved the DNA test and sat the printouts in front of Perinski. "The blood from Ralph's cage matches blood found on slaughter implements in your barn." Grissom pulled out another two more DNA tests and photos of the bloody rope, pickup bumper and tailgate, and radiator of the dump truck. He sat them down one at a time. "And the blood on these items matched Takoda Red Deer's DNA."

Grissom stopped talking to let both the lawyer and her client realize that Steve was finally pinned for the murder.

"Let's talk plea bargain," Marshall told them.

Grissom started to reply. Steve suddenly shoved the pictures away.

"I can't believe you'd clear a damn monkey," Perinski growled.

"Gorilla," Nick corrected with a clenched jaw.

"Whatever!"

"Why would you try to pin this on him? What did Ralph ever do to you?" Grissom questioned.

"Steve, don't answer that," Marshall advised.

Steve tried to obey, but his rage was greater than his sense of preservation. "She would rather have spent time with that stupid monkey! I asked her out and asked and asked. She kept turning me down. Yet that stupid, idiotic monkey asked her to stay and she'd stay for hours. How sick is that? To choose a monkey over humans?"

"Gorilla!" Nick practically yelled as he slammed a hand on the table.

Grissom motioned Nick to back off.

Steve laughed at Nick. "You prefer a monkey to humans, too? Maybe you should be killed too."

Nick started to react, then stopped and smiled. "So you killed Takoda because you were jealous of a _gorilla_?"

"What are you going to do about it?" Perinski asked.

Nick laughed. He looked at Grissom, motioning to Perinski. Grissom played along and returned the smile.

"He wants to know what we're going to do about that, Grissom." Nick laughed a little more, making Perinski smile, but not Marshall. She had a bad feeling about this. Nick stopped smiling and laughing suddenly. Perinski slowly stopped too. He realized something was about to go horribly wrong for him.

Nick leaned on the table. "Mister Perinski that was the worst thing you could have said in a room that records every conversation. You just confessed to murder."

Grissom smiled when Steve looked at him, gathering the photographs and printouts in the folder. He and Nick got up, and left the room. Down the hall, Sara and Catherine were still watching Guistina. Nick didn't notice them, but Grissom did.

"Good work, Nick," Grissom told him.

"On what?"

"Getting him to say that. He won't be getting out of this easily."

"I didn't plan it, you know."

"I know."

Nick nodded as he walked away. Today he, Greg, and Grissom had saved an animal's life, something that was no small feat in a world of humans. It left him with a satisfied feeling.

* * *

Terri opened the cage door for Grissom and Sara. Ralph sat in the middle of the cage with a hearty meal of fruits and vegetables. He stopped eating when the two walked in. Grissom walked up and held out a split coconut. Ralph reached for Sara's hand instead. She timidly held her hand out and he took it, kissing it and then showing his teeth to them both.

Grissom signed while he spoke to Ralph. "Are you trying to take my mate?"

Ralph made a noise the equivalent of gorilla laughter. He slapped playfully at Grissom's arm and then took the coconut. Grissom sat down. Sara sat beside him, the couple's legs touching. Ralph noticed and he signed. Grissom chuckled.

"Gil!" Sara cried, batting his arm.

Grissom looked at her with open surprise. "He said—"

"He asked if I'm the troop leader because you sat first and then I joined you. I've been practicing."

Grissom smiled. He told Ralph, "She is my mate and neither of us are the troop leader." With that, the two began a conversation.

Sara rested her head on Grissom's shoulder. She watched man and primate talk in a silent but vibrant conversation.

**The End**

* * *

1. Glaspell, Susan. _Trifles_. New York, The Washington Players. 1916. Print.

2. Fitzgerald, Ella, & Jordan, Louis. "Stone Cold Dead In The Market (He Had It Coming)." Online video clip. _YouTube_. YouTube, January 14, 2009.


End file.
